


Soft

by johnmotherfuckingshelby



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, geralt is emotionally constipated as usual, my writing is crap lmao, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnmotherfuckingshelby/pseuds/johnmotherfuckingshelby
Summary: Geralt of Rivia,  the White Wolf, the butcher of Blaviken, can be soft too.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Kudos: 37





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for this y'all, it's the first time i post here and it's my first The Witcher work. Hope you like it <3\. (It's hella short too, *sigh*)

Soft. A word that Geralt would never use to describe himself. He was tough, rough around the edges. He was merciless. Under his stare courageous men crumbled and fell to their feet, powerless, begging for their life, begging for mercy. His world was full of monsters, cruelty, and guts. He had never thought he would find himself in a situation like this, your soft hands cradling his face while your lips pressed butterfly kisses to his scarred face.  
You, on the other hand, were gentle and gracious, all flowers and honey. You were sweet smiles on a sunny day, summer rain after a scorching day, a tender kiss before sleep. Your life was full of gentle gestures and laughter.  
It was all so surreal, your affection for him. He couldn’t explain to himself why you seemed to be so fascinated by him. The witcher who only received hateful or terrorized glances and bitter words from everybody.  
Your lips traced slowly every inch of him, igniting a fire inside of him that he hadn’t felt for a long time. Emotions started bubbling inside him, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.  
“I missed you,” you murmured lowly. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of your voice and your body engulf him. His arms were wrapped loosely around your waist, his lips slightly parted, his warm breath fanned over your bare collarbone. Your lips were attached to his skin, your tongue tasted his salty skin, your hands slid through his damp hair and massaged lightly his scalp.  
Moonlight filtered through your window and you shined under Geralt’s adoring gaze. Your wet hair stuck to your bareback, your legs on both sides of him. A small smile curved your, now, swollen lips and you returned his look.  
The witcher felt his heart leap into his chest, his breath caught in his throat. If somebody had told him the year before that he’d find a love like this he would have laughed in their face, but now, with you, so beautiful and bare only for him, he felt the happiest man in the world.  
The bathwater was now getting cold but neither of you cared. Your lips finally met and you could feel the Witcher’s desire, almost desperate to have you, but you were going to set your own pace and traced slowly the curves of your lover’s body.  
Geralt looked at you and a whimper escaped him, he was vulnerable with you and only you.  
“I know,” you whispered while tenderly stroking his skin, “I love you too.”  
You captured your witcher’s lips one more time and let yourselves fall into the abyss of passion for the night.


End file.
